Long Overdue Rant

Sometimes life deals you some serious crap. Everyone disappoints you and hurts you and makes you feel less than loved. Then you systematically sort through all the good memories, filtering out the bad and still can't identify a single person in any of those moments that hasn't caused you heartache and/or left you stranded. 


Sometimes life deals you another hand of crap. Everything that can possibly go wrong, does. Every good thing that ever happens to you (as small as it may be), ultimately results in yet another few things going wrong. You know there is a God, but you forget that He is yours too. You can't tell the difference between God's tests and His punishments. A wise woman once shared with me something that another wise woman once told her. There is an easy rule of differentiation that separates the tests from the punishments so it can be just that little bit easier to act accordingly to disentangle the mess that is your life. She told me that the only way to know if a certain bout of bad luck is a test or a punishment is by deeply reflecting on whether that misfortune brings you closer to God or pulls you away from Him. If it brings you closer to God, than it was a test. If it takes you further from Him, it was either a failed test, or quite simply a punishment - which when you think about it, either way, is really the same thing - a punishment.


That wise woman is my sister, and the wise woman who told her is her best friend. After my three-year blogging hiatus, I write today to share this slice of wisdom with my own friends, foes (if I have any) and anyone who may chance to read this. If this little thought can pull even one soul out of misery or even a tiny bit of confusion, than my post has served its purpose. 


Here's to many more years of ranting - with a purpose and more often, without!

Joint

You dizzy me so
I want to know...
Oops.. What was it?
Oh! When I hold you so...
And so I dropped
Just fell like flop..
What are you saying?.. Yes
Never mattered less
Stop for a bit
Your voice is static
Buzzing like a bee
A far-tuned-out TV
Can't tell if it's true
What would life be without you?

I can, I can't

I can forgive you for every time you make an excuse not to have to spend time with me and go traipsing off to a friend's house to play a video game or watch a mindless, lame excuse of a movie.

I can't forgive you for not wanting to spend that precious time with me.

BlisssSssss...zZzzzz

So maybe I haven't been the happiest person in the world recently. But who needs superficial, sappy, tear-in-the-eye, lump-in-the-throat khushi to update their blog right? Not I, said Areej. In fact, I suppose it's always been the opposite. I only miss my bloggy in my moments of extreme despair, emotional turmoil, many-tears-in-the-eyes (and pillow, and blankie, and tissues...) and all that melodrama. I'm sorry bloggy, but it's true :(

So now I'm writing in my moment of ecstasy! Weehee, yaay (: Yes yes, after so much of the traumatic, over-analytical writing that I have so well mastered during my moments (days, weeks, months, years?) of misery; I have experienced (yes me) a moment of pure bliss. During countless minutes of infuriating *splish*splash* sound effects of my own tears, I have often found myself wondering what it would be like to have someone truly understand the way I so often feel the way I do when I so often experience the extreme disappointment in the entire human race and it's world that so often overwhelms me... (yes, ever so often). Today, my faithful blog-viewers (hello? is there anybody there?) I am writing to gladly inform you that I have again, failed in my endeavour to find a kindred spirit like myself who can truly understand the state of misery I was born into the day I awoke to the idea that misery is but oh-so-delicious-and-addictive. Not only have I failed in finding a soul to share this psycho-manic-depressive's deep love for being unloved; but I have also discovered that I no longer yearn to discover that one kindred being who will one day, truly understand the me-phenomenon (hallelujah).

I have not lost my noodles, for I had surrendered those to the Great Father Himself the day he decided to curse the lives of my parents with the likes of me, kindly informing Him that I did not need them. What a beautiful feeling it is to know that the quest for sanity has finally ended with no positive (?) results whatsoever. Today, I know that I never wanted to be understood at all. Why, I do believe I have given up and fallen astray from the insanely impossible feat of finding my soullll mate (or so to say); or perhaps I have simply altered the criteria. Yup, that sounds about right! *grin* All I ever needed was the effort that goes hand in hand with the cliched 'understanding' bit, and would you believe it, I didn't have a clue! But now I do, and I am in a state of pure, sweeeet bliss. Of course in my life, I have poooh-pooooohed all prospective soul mates that tried stunt upon lowly-yet-in-earnest stunt to try and impress me and know me and love me and above all, understand me. Why, you ask? Well because they were flawed ofcourse, and to have a flawed soul mate just simply wouldn't do. By flawed I mean either too impossibly imperfect, or too absurdly the opposite, both of which just simply -- wouldn't -- do.

So before I get tangled in a web of my own words all over again, which I so often do, as demonstrated above *stops to breathe between sentences*... yes I have found my perfectly imperfect soul mate who makes the most beautifully ridiculous attempts to pacify my forever changing moods (or just to run along with them at times). I have found my pitifully misunderstood understander and my favorite manao-fier (yes, that's Urdu) of all times. And I love him to pieces. He is the scar upon my life that I will treasure for eternity without ever applying anti-scar serum to make him fade away, or any make-up to cover him up in useless filth.

*MWAH* (:

P.S. Sorry for the abnormally long post so full of irrelevant crappety crap. Maafi please.
P.P.S. I missed you Bloggy, you're my best friend too.

Drugs & Crossroads

I used to wonder what real happiness in the true sense of the word, really meant. I don't wonder anymore. Been there, done that. I wonder if it's true for everybody, or if it's just my warped sense of reality that causes me to believe that once one has been fortunate enough to have achieved a moment, an hour, a day, a month of true happiness (I have serious doubts that it could last longer than that), one lets go of the moment all too quickly. Happiness is not addictive, but misery sure is. There lies a certain comfort in being truly, utterly, miserable. If I may put it this way - one begins to develop a drug-like dependancy to that feeling of emptiness, loneliness... helplessness.

Just like a drug... not every kind can bring about the same reaction, nor live in the same timeframe. One can never really get the same 'high', or so to say, from the same feeling of misery twice. Atleast this one can't. I find myself never being able to make the feeling of misery last as long the next time the same kind comes around (as misery tends to do). So I experiment with my mind. My conscious, sub-conscious and unconscious mind. I find ways to see how far I can push myself... I can now achieve that surreal epitome of misery... that sublime point at which I feel like there is nothing there; no expectations, and absolutely no hope of ever coming out of that self-dug grave I continually dig deeper into for myself. Maybe I will reach a point where I have dug my grave of misery so deep that I can not come out of it. Maybe a night will come when I can not cry myself to sleep anymore; when I can't achieve my peak of misery... where I can not imagine associating being miserable with lost hope and mistreated, abused expectations. I suppose that would be the highest of all highs..... I suppose that would be the day when misery will depart and winter will shower me in all its chilly winds and icy rains.... I suppose that feeling of not being able to achieve even the lowest level of misery, not being able to make oneself hurt anymore, can be called cold. We will discover it sooner or later... sooner, rather than later in my case.

I can't wait (:

Whatever...

I hadn't seen it coming. I could never have fathomed that you would drop so low as to poke me with the wand that held my soul. Those countless hours and days and nights and months and years I spent spilling my guts out, pouring the contents of my heart into your already-full-with-memories-of-her heart where they fell into your world like tears, insignificant to the overflowing pool they fell into - I was so foolish.



Words don't mean a thing at all and it really is true. To think that I dedicated so many worthless pieces of crappy writing to you, that I lost count of all the words I didn't even know I could write - and you, with the flick of a mere sentence, ruined me. I didn't know you had it in you.

Febreeze

I haven't written in you for a really long time blogger, and I'm sorry. Boy, have I missed you!

Life has been a series of ups and downs lately. Being in a different country, not knowing what's going on and what all you left behind, not knowing what lies ahead of you, and not knowing how to cope with both can be the most difficult and confusing task in the world. Recent developments in my so-called life (or half-death) have left me feeling betrayed and unsure of what to expect. I know I don't deserve to dream. I also know I don't deserve to desire something that can never be mine, but it still hurts to see it about to belong to someone else. Does that make sense? I don't think it does. Lately, nothing makes sense. Okay, let's scratch the 'lately'. I think I say lately, lately, so it's not lately anymore... it's more like... all-the-time-ly.

How can you want two entirely diversely different, insanely opposite, utterly nonsensically impossible things at the very same time? I don't know if you can, but I know I sure do. And I also know that I have been the most focused, straight-thinking, crazily SANE person in the world all my life. And now I'm not. Or maybe I always was, and now I'm normal. I really don't know which way it applies, but nonetheless, I am at crossroads with what my life is offering me on one end (which is not so bad), and what I want to take from my life (which is just ooooh wow). I have my entire life waiting for me back in Pakistan and it's not like I've forgotten it or don't want to go back. I just want to stay here or go somewhere else and never look back again.

Only once in my life did I get to do what I really wanted to, with no boundaries or limitations or any form of guilt or regret or remorse for what could easily be classified as sin in the normal world. Only once in my life did I chance to meet a person who like me, was the most normal person in the world - who always stuck to the rules and made sure nobody got hurt. Yet, this normal person also became me in that instance and we together became two different people in one beautifully different world from the one we live in. Two people who lived their lives by the rules of others managed to do just the opposite.

I don't have the right to dream. But just for a moment in time, glazed in ice and freeze dried for eternity in the forever ticking clockwork of my mind - I caught a glimpse of heaven. You are my heaven and I will take you wherever I go. I might feel guilty for it for the rest of my life, but you belong here and no one can take you away.

Memories are like sugar-glazed cinnamon buns that finish up all too quickly, but leave that sweet stickiness on your fingers and in your mind for you to cherish and remember them for as long as you want to. Only, you can't lick them off or wash them away. Not even if you want to.